


Crazy Little Thing

by effing_gravity (Malteaser)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, Marriage Proposal, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25297990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malteaser/pseuds/effing_gravity
Summary: It's a beautiful post-Apocalyptic day, and Crowley is very happy. He's about to be even happier.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 143
Collections: Good Omens Kink Meme





	Crazy Little Thing

Crowley was happy.  
  
This was not an uncommon occurrence, two years after the world didn't end, but today was really taking the cake so far. When he'd woken up, it turned out that not only had Aziraphale fallen asleep, but he'd fallen asleep on top of Crowley, giving him a double treat of the sight of Aziraphale all sleep-soft and rumbled and the feel of all that wonderful bulk on him. Aziraphale had woken up not too long after he had, and then they spent some time just kissing on the bed, hands wandering, lit by the mid-morning sunshine.  
  
They'd gone out eventually, and back up to London for the day: Camden Market was finally back up to snuff with their food stalls, and Aziraphale wanted to nibble (and Crowley wanted to watch him nibble). So they'd wandered the market, picking up tasty morsels, a few used books Aziraphale could repair back up to his standards, and one sad-looking 'free' African violet for Crowley to whip back into shape. They deposited their goods in the Bentley and then, not quite ready to head home just yet, decided to keep walking. They took a turn through Primrose Park, and had a good-natured debate about which of them was more responsible for Iolo Morganwg.  
  
They kept walking until they reached the Avenue Gardens, and then they found a bench to sit on. They played a few rounds of one of Crowley's favorite games- 'what would this person do if they came across fifty quid laying on the ground?'- and then lapsed into comfortable silence, and Crowley was very, very happy.  
  
They sat pressed together, thigh to thigh, one of Crowley's ankles hooked around one of Aziraphale's. They weren't holding hands- Aziraphale's were busy, slowly twisting his ring over and over again around his pinky.  
  
"Penny for your thoughts?" Crowley asked.  
  
"Erm- what?" Aziraphale looked startled.  
  
Crowley frowned. "You're a million miles away, angel. What's going on?"  
  
"Well," Aziraphale said, and Crowley felt that happy buoyancy he'd been carrying with him all day begin to deflate. "You know that I love you, right? And I intend to keep loving you, forever, right?"  
  
"Yeah," Crowley said cautiously. "Is there a 'but' coming? Because it kind of sounds like-"  
  
"No buts but those we sit upon," Aziraphale replied, prompting a nervously relieved giggle from him. "I just- it's only-" He bit his lip.  
  
"Only what?"  
  
Aziraphale nodded, which didn't really answer Crowley's question, and then pushed himself off the bench and getting down on one knee before him. Crowley's heart immediately began pounding so loudly that it was about to be cited in a noise complaint.  
  
"Crowley, my dearest," Aziraphale said, gathering his hands between his own. Crowley had more or less forgotten how to breathe at this point. "I know that- I know that this isn't exactly the usual thing, where we come from." If Crowley had been capable of producing speech as opposed to a high-pitched whine inaudible to anyone with less sensitive hearing than a dog's, he would have told Aziraphale not to worry. If this was what it seemed like it was, then he'd already been mentally slotting them into every wedding tradition the humans had come up with in the last thousand years or so. "But I- this is home, now. And I'd like- I'd like to make it official, so to speak. That we're- that we're on our own side, and- and for one another." One of his hands withdrew, but only so it could reach inside his jacket pocket and pull out a box, which opened to reveal a beautiful antique ring made of silver, with a decently-sized ruby set against two small emerald accents that made it look a bit like an apple. "Crowley, will you marry-"  
  
"Yes!" Crowley said, like it was the only word he knew how to say- which was closer to the truth than he would have liked to admit under different circumstances. "Yes, yes, yes, yes!"  
  
He bent down and took Aziraphale's head between his hands, and kissed him. Distantly, he was aware of some applause coming from a socially appropriate distance away.  
  
"You daft bastard," Crowley said, his voice breaking. "How long have you been planning this?"  
  
"I've had the ring in my pocket for months," Aziraphale admitted, his eyes gone all watery. "It just took me this long to pluck up the courage."  
  
"You-" Crowley pulled him up a bit so the angle would be a little less awkward, and kissed him again. "You- are you sure? It can't be in a church or anything like that."  
  
"There are plenty of other places to get married these days, you know," Aziraphale said. "We could even do it at a Tesco, apparently, if you like."  
  
"Not Tesco," Crowley managed.  
  
"May I?" Aziraphale asked, holding up the ring.  
  
"Please."  
  
Aziraphale slid the ring onto his finger. It fit like it had been made for him. Maybe it had.


End file.
